Conrad Fisher Romane & Geschichten

"About my parent's case. They had a suspect back then, but they didn't release it because the evidence was circumstantial." "Who?" "Magnus Fisher. CEO of Fisher Pharmaceuticals."

“Man? hindering us? Okay, you are still confusing us here. Come out plain dude.” “A long time ago…” he started. “I think I will just grab some bloody wine to sit through this… and maybe some smoke too…sounds like it would be such a long story…” Fabiano stood and sauntered over to the fridge. He got back seconds later holding with him a pack of cigarette and a bottle of wine. “Okay, spill. I think I am ready for this blockbuster story you have here.” “You all think the werewolves are all dead just like they think of us but I tell you I know where they are…” he smirked, delighted with himself.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I was reminded of Conrad's presence in the room. ‘Was Conrad proud when he had me?’ I asked myself and managed to say a thank you to Mr. Fisher with a bright smile before my eyes went to scanning everyone in the room in search of Conrad. I was positive about not wanting to see him, yet, I couldn't stay for a minute without lifting my eyes to the door in hopes to see Conrad bursting through the door. “How am I to believe that the marginal profit will be as you have said?” Alpha Kinsley of Dark Crescent, one of our new clients, asked me.

That four-letter word was caught in my throat, refusing to come out. “ Shh, don’t say that. He’s okay. He’ll be okay. “ No matter how soothing and encouraging her words were, a part of my brain thought the worst thought possible. The pain in my chest had only gotten more intense by the second. I pulled away from her and wiped my tears. I needed to have faith. He was Nikolai, the youngest self-made Don to ever walk this earth. He was okay, he had to be. The door opened and Lily came in. She looked between the two of us and her expression softened when she saw my red eyes.

Conrad was walking towards us, a flute of champagne already in his hand. “Looks like nobody wanted to be late to this,” he said, gesturing at the full table. “I mean, I wouldn’t be late too when the person who invited me is Damien Goldberg. There are still whispers about you calling us all here to get rid of us once and for all.” Damien only glared at him for a short moment. Conrad and Jameson had finally gotten their differences set aside, and Conrad was slowly but surely moving past the pain of Shirley’s death.

“Do you want us to get Fisher for you? I didn't know you wanted him because he is in another town already, but not too far for me to bring him back to you.” “I wanted to leave him initially, I wanted to focus on his bastard but now after thinking about it, he was part of the conspiracy and he wasn't supposed to be a part of him if he wanted his life. I wanted to show some empathy because of his wife and his family, I didn't want him to lose everything.” “And now?” “I want to burn him down! I want him to pay too. Leaving him was going to allow him to come near Hailey again, it was better if he was eliminated.” I said coldly without a single remorse evident in my tone.

"Of course it is. You're the future of the Cunningham family. I've invested too much in you for you to waste it all chasing a ruined Lloyd out east. Instead of earning more merit and climbing through the ranks, you want to hunt down some washed-up heir like a common thug? You disappoint me, Conrad. Deeply." Conrad went silent for a moment, his jaw tight. Then, he said stubbornly, "Even if it disappoints you, I have to do it. This is my obsession, my demon. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't live in peace until I put an end to this. I have to kill Andrew. It's the only way I'll find peace inside."

“But only after my honor has been restored.” I let out a sharp laugh, the sound bitter. “Your honor? Is that what you call betraying your wife these days?” Conrad ignored the venom in my voice, his jaw tightening. “You’ll admit to the reporters that I didn’t cheat,” he continued, as if I hadn’t spoken. “You’ll explain away the photos and video clip—say they were expertly doctored, or better yet, tell them the woman in the video is you.” My head snapped toward him, disbelief and fury warring within me. “You want me to claim that I’m the woman in the video?” I demanded, my voice rising despite myself. “You’re out of your mind.”

'Kidney failure'. The gavel trembles in his grip. “Doctor Fisher.” The room freezes. “You preyed on the desperate. Lied to the dying. 'Profited' from pain.” Calloway’s voice cracks. Rare. “But this court? It doesn’t 'forget'.” Fisher stands. “Your Honor, I—” “'Fifteen years'.” The gavel falls. 'Crack'. Cheers. Sobs. Cameras flash. Voss gathers her papers. Cold satisfaction. Fisher’s lawyer flees.

Hearing what he had said, Niamh said from the other side of the call, "What? The Fisher guy? Who are you talking about?" "Leonard Fisher! He came with some bodyguards and took your sister away." "No way!" she blurted out. "Did you see him pick her up with your own eyes? Harvey and I grew up together, but I had only seen Leonard a few times myself. He's a busy academician at Hawke University, and he was even invited by the government to work on a classified project. How can he possibly…" "It really was Leonard Fisher!" Alex said emotionally. "I saw him with my own eyes, and there's no mistaking it! Prof. Fisher even called me ridiculous for digging up information from a five-year-old as a res